


Something Old, Something New

by osprey_archer



Category: Ella Enchanted - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-21
Updated: 2014-10-21
Packaged: 2018-02-22 01:53:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2490170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/osprey_archer/pseuds/osprey_archer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The curse is gone, but Ella's old fears about obedience are not gone with it. But new family and old friends are happy to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Old, Something New

**Author's Note:**

  * For [1shinymess (magpie4shinies)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magpie4shinies/gifts).



Char and I wanted to get married right away, of course, but his parents insisted that we had to wait a month. “We never intended to have the wedding right after the ball,” King Jerrold pointed out. 

“But you thought I would be marrying a stranger, and need to get to know her better,” Char protested, holding my hand. “I’ve known Ella for more than a year already.”

“But we haven’t,” said Queen Daria, and smiled at me. “And we would very much like to get to know you better.” Her voice was welcoming, but also firm: they would not be rushed into an immediate wedding. 

Char and I looked at each other. “It will give me time to write to Areida,” I told him, and he sighed and smiled and squeezed my hand. 

“And of course,” said King Jerrold, “you must write to your father.”

Even though Char and I weren’t married yet, I had already moved into the palace. I would have moved into a pigsty to get away from Dame Olga and Hattie and Olive, but the king and queen had provided me a far more comfortable room in the Maiden’s Corridor, with a little fireplace and a canopy bed and a charming pigeonhole writing desk that overlooked the palace rose gardens. 

That evening, I sat at the desk to write my letters. Areida’s was easy. The only hard parts were writing slowly enough that the words remained legible, and restraining myself to telling Areida the most important parts rather than trying to share everything all at once. I apologized for abandoning her at finishing school, explaining (and what a joy it was to be able to explain my curse!) that Hattie would have forced me to destroy our friendship if I had not left, and begged her to come to Frell for my wedding. 

Father’s letter, however, was harder. How should I even begin? I could scarcely bring myself to call him _Dear Father_ after the way he had abandoned me to Dame Olga and her daughters. If I invited him to the wedding, he would almost certainly try to fleece our wedding guests. 

At last I set aside my pen and rubbed my eyes. Why was I inviting Father at all? I didn’t want him at the wedding. But the king had ordered me...

I felt a sudden shudder course through me. King Jerrold’s voice had worked on me almost like the curse: he gave me an order and I felt compelled to obey. 

Could the curse be back? Perhaps Mandy was wrong when she said I had broken it. 

I ran headlong into the hall. I don’t know what I intended to do - dash to the stables and set off on a fast horse for parts unknown, where my curse couldn’t hurt Char, probably - but in fact, I charged right into Char’s younger sister Cecelia, who was practicing her dancing leaps up and down the hall of the Maiden’s Corridor. 

I crashed to the carpet. Cecilia, more graceful, managed to stay on her feet. “Ella!” she cried. “Oh, did I hurt you?”

Of course she thought my tears came from our collision. “No, no!” I said, struggling to stand.

But she knelt beside me. “I must call for the physician - ” she began.

“No!” I cried, and clasped her sleeve. “No, I was just crying…” I had no good excuse for crying. I might have told her I was homesick, but all the servants from my own home were now installed in the palace, and there was nothing else in my old home to miss. “I was writing to my father, and…” 

“I suppose you miss him?” Cecilia suggested, when I didn’t finish my sentence. 

I shook my head. “Not at all. I don’t even want him at the wedding,” I said, although that was hardly a proper sentiment for a young lady.

But Cecilia nodded. “Of course,” she said. “If he upsets you so much, of course you needn’t invite him.”

“Your father ordered me to do so. And when he ordered me, I felt - _compelled_ to obey. What if the curse is…?” My voice faded. Maybe the old orders not to talk about the curse were back in force, too! “And if the curse is back, I can’t marry Char!” I cried, stumbling to my feet. 

Cecilia leapt to her feet too. “Ella!” she cried. “Slap me!” 

“What?” I said, and I was so startled that it stopped my tears. 

She pouted. “I am a princess,” she said. “Don’t you have to obey me?” 

I felt no compulsion to obey her. The curse really was gone; I really could marry Char. We both laughed, although there were still some tears in my laughter. “Father has that effect on everyone,” Cecelia assured me, patting my shoulder. “He’s just so used to being obeyed that somehow it never occurs to anyone to do anything else.” 

“I’ll be good for him, then,” I declared. “Because beneath Lucinda’s curse, I’ve always been a disobedient minx.” 

Cecilia laughed. “I think it very unfair of Char to keep you to himself like he has,” she said. “He must have known we all would love you as much as he does.” She gave another fake pout. “He can be so _very_ selfish.” 

I laughed again, and this time there were no tears in it. Cecilia smiled at me. She looked very like Char, with her freckly cheeks and curly hair, but she had her mother’s wide smile. 

I did write to Father: the king is the king and has to be obeyed, after all. But I wrote to Father only a week before the wedding, when I felt confident that he wouldn’t get the letter in time to attend. Resisting Lucinda’s curse might prove good training for navigating palace life. 

Just as I was sealing the letter, a servant knocked at my door. “Someone here to see you, my lady,” she said. 

I set down Father’s letter with a sudden superstitious fear that it must be him. Of course it was impossible. I hadn’t even sent his letter yet! And yet the news of my wedding to Char must have reached far beyond Kyrria now.

I hastily washed the ink off my hands and left my room, my head high and my steps short. My princess dignity wasn’t likely to cow Father, but it would remind me that he had no power over me anymore. 

But it wasn’t Father at all. Instead, Areida stood at the bottom of the grand staircase, her head tilted back to take in the paintings on the ceiling far above her head. “Areida!” I cried. I abandoned my dignity and slid right down the bannister to meet her, flying off the end of the polished wood and almost running into her arms. 

She hugged me, then hastily stepped back and curtsied. “Areida!” I cried again. “None of that! I won’t be a princess at all if you’re going to treat me like that. I’ll - I’ll make them call me Court Linguist!” 

Areida laughed. She still had the most wonderful laugh in the world. “Why, even Manners Mistress wouldn’t know how to address you with a title like that,” she said. “What will the servants do?” 

Of course Areida was right. I didn’t want to create unnecessary difficulties for the servants - not after the way Hattie and Dame Olga had delighted in creating difficulties for me. I suddenly remembered Cecilia’s voice. _I’m a princess. Don’t you have to obey me?_ Of course she had been joking, but it was still true: the common folk did have to obey their sovereigns. “Oh, Areida,” I said. “I’m not sure if I can do it.” 

“Do what?” she asked. 

“Be a princess,” I said. “I love Char. I want to be his wife more than anything in the world. But it’s as if my curse has turned around back to front! Instead of me obeying everyone else, everyone else will have to obey me.” 

Areida’s face crinkled thoughtfully, and I was almost relieved to see real worry in her expression. The royal family had been very kind to me, but they were all so used to being obeyed that they didn’t quite understand why it bothered me. “You hated having to be obedient, didn’t you?” Areida said. 

I nodded. “It put me at the mercy of everyone,” I said. “So when Hattie ordered me not to be your friend anymore…” Even now, with Areida standing beside me, knowing that our friendship was safe, the memory put a lump in my throat. “I hate that now I have that kind of power over other people,” I said quietly. 

“You would never give orders like Hattie’s,” Areida said. 

“Not knowingly. But what if I do it by accident? What if I get so used to being obeyed that - ”

“Ella,” said Areida, and she took my hands in hers. “I don’t know the rest of the royal family, but Prince Charmont stayed at our inn once. I’m sure that if you gave cruel or unkind orders, he would tell you. I believe the rest of them would as well.” She smiled. “And I’m not your subject, you know. So you wouldn’t be able to punish me for telling you that you had gone wrong, either.” She swung my hands and smiled. “Like now, for instance! You are cruelly keeping a traveller from food and rest!” 

“Oh, what would the king say!” I cried, and we both laughed at the memory of Manners Mistress’s often-repeated cry. “But I know exactly what he would say!” I added. “He would say we should have tea in the garden to give the servants time to prepare you a chamber where you can have a rest before dinner.”

“Thank you, princess,” said Areida, with a wicked grin. 

“None of that from you!” I said. “To _you_ , I will be Court Linguist. And of course the proper way to address me is any way you want to.”

“And what if I want to call you Princess?” Areida teased. 

“Then - ” I stopped. “I suppose I’ll have to bear it!” 

Areida slipped her arm through mine, and we went to the garden. “Oh, Ella,” she said. “It’s _good_ to see you again!”


End file.
